rosarianoath

[To be wanted is one thing. To be wanted by him is another beast entirely. Jill is breathless against him, wanting more and more herself, but when he releases her it feels like she'll drown.

But then she's being hoisted up, and she breathes out something amused. Her nightgown is short enough that it's ridden up in this position, exposing her. It's like some fantasy brought to life: Clive, unworried about somehow offending her, letting instinct win. Finally. She'll gladly let herself be manhandled by him to see what awaits.]

[His grip on her is firm, the arm around her thighs ending his with hand palming the meat of her bared ass. He moves as a man on a mission, striding into her room and right to the bed, where he lays her down on her back, splays her thighs with both hands, and stands between them. He looks down at her hungrily, and he’s all there, life and fondness and adoration behind his eyes. She’s his favourite, it’ll always be her. His Jill, his jewel, the love of his life.

He could live a thousand years and still want her.

Unblinking, eyes on here, he takes the hem of her nightdress between his hands, and pulls taut to tear it hem to neckline.]

Clive!

[Whatever poetic, flowery thoughts she had while looking up at the man she still loves desperately disappear as he tears her nightgown. Fortunately, his name is said with a laugh. She has other things to sleep in.]

Really?

[He looks down at her hungrily as he yanks his own shirt off, tossing his t-shirt off over his head like even a second apart is too much.]

Should I wait to press myself to your bare skin a moment longer for the sake of a dress?

[Unlikely. He unbuckles his belt next, and then his fly, all with a hurried efficiency.]

[He's not tearing his shirt open. Jill grins, biting her bottom lip as she moves. Probably not what he wants, but as she shifts to her knees she tosses the torn nightgown aside. Her hands go to his stomach, passing over his abdomen, appreciating the muscle her fingers slide over.]

You feel like you're on fire.

[He always runs hot, but this is something else. Or maybe it's just been too long since she touched him like this.]

[Whether she's on her back or knees, he does not care, as long as she's right here in the bed he's going to fuck her in. He's near feverish for it, and as he pulls his cock out of his fly, he nods some acknowledgement of what she's said.]

I am.

[He redirects one of her hands right to his cock, leaning his face in closer to her, close enough to very nearly catch her in another kiss. The intensity to his voice grows sharper.]

Feel how hard I am for you.

[If this is a dream, she'll be happy to stay asleep until its end. He's hot and hard in her hand, and she breathes out a sigh, eyes closing as she nuzzles her nose against his.]

I've missed you.

[It's at odd with the hurt he caused, but she misses the good times. She misses the passion they once shared.

She tips her head to take a kiss for herself, softly for a heartbeat before demanding more.]

[He meets her kiss with an unrelenting energy, his hands finding her face again, holding her to him. He breaks off just to groan, his cock twitching in her hand, and he mutters against her lips:]

Tonight you can avail yourself of every inch of me.

[He presses his hips forward, into her hands.]

Leave me sore. Leave your mark on me.

[Because she tells herself this is it. This one bight of selfishness. Weakness. And then no more. He can struggle with the memory of her body as she struggles with his. Her fingers stroke him, and she's bold enough to demand what she wants.]

Make me feel how much you need me. Without a doubt.

[There is no longer any small voice at the back of his head telling him to tread cautiously, or to treat her like porcelain. Clive nods, breathing in sharply through his nose as the grip of her hand whisks away any more resistance. He stills her hand and takes her wrists together, and he orders:]

Then lay back.

[Whatever has gotten into him, she knows he's less careful. She likes the grip of his hand around her wrists, and looks him in the eyes. Lay back? An instruction, but still gentle.]

Put me where you want me, Clive.

[He knows exactly where he wants her. He gathers her wrists in one hand, his grip just wide enough to pin them both at once, and for a beat he appreciates that –– how easy it is to trap her, to keep her. The growl that slips from him next comes with a surge forward, bowling her back and pinning her hands over her head. His body follows, pinning her with his full weight with her thighs splayed on either side of him. It's a full body grind against her, nose to nose with her.]

[This is something she's wanted for as long as she can recall: him, doing as he pleases with her without hesitation. Claiming her as his own. Funny that it happens now, when she would not consider herself his any longer.

(Her heart will always be his, but she knows now what it is to be with others. This is her indulging in something forbidden while giving him the kindness of her body. Just this once. Just this last time. Just for now.)

Her thighs squeeze around him, mouth trying to find his for another kiss. It's hard to breathe with his weight pushing her into the mattress, but she loves it.]

[Her body is, as it's always been, perfect to him. Supple despite the scars, soft despite the life she's lived. Well-fed, hardy, beautiful. Maybe he's just burning up, but she feels cool under him, capable of tempering him. Taking him. He does kiss her, hungry and just a little wolfish about it. He gets his weight up on his elbow just to bolster himself up enough to reach down and line his cock up with her entrance.]

Take me as you please, Clive.

[He's so close. She can hardly move beneath him, but she tries anyway, as if she could get him inside her sooner.]

I want to feel you still once you've left my bed.

[What the lady wants, the lady gets — this time, at least. Clive bullies his way into her, capturing his mouth with hers to catch any sound she might make as the head of his cock rams all the way home. It’s harder than necessary, even a little selfish —- there has been no tenderness here, no teasing to work her up — and he sets about a brutal pace.]

[The force makes her cry out, the sound lost in his mouth, as well as the moan that follows. She's entirely helpless and at his mercy--a thing she would only ever allow with him. It's pleasure and pain all at once, and she returns it as she can, giving his bottom lip a stinging nip with her teeth.

He ruts into her like a beast and she squeezes her thighs against him all the more, encouraging. She wants to ache.]

[He doesn’t break pace, not even for a beat, even when she bites him. If anything, it eggs him on. He drives into her again and again, lifting himself away from the kiss and releasing her wrists just to hook that thumb into her mouth, a firm pressure against her tongue — if she’s going to bite, he’ll give her something to suck on. Sweat drips down his back and chest, and slowly plasters his bangs to his forehead. His gaze is intense, his mouth open in a pant. His lip stings.]

You’re going to feel this next week.

[Beneath him, she can feel the beads of sweat roll off his body and over her ribs and shoulders. Each thrust makes her gasp, even if quietly, managing it still around his thumb. A hand grasps desperately at his back, nails digging into his skin in a way she'd never be able to bring herself before.

He'll have his reminders of tonight as well. She's never so bold, never wanting to hurt him, but they're different people, now.]

[Between her legs and her finders, her grip on him is vice-like, and the shallow crescents marking his back feel like they’re there to stay. Each thrust now comes with a grunt of exertion, a heave of his chest. He could go all night but he wants to spill himself inside her, and before long, that’s what he does, ramming in to the root and slowing to shallower, dragging thrusts, pulsing in her.

Only then does he break his gaze on her, eyes screwing shut as he comes.]

[It's been so long since she's felt him come. She moans at the sensation alone, eyes squeezing shut as her fingers dig in deeper. Keeping him.]

Oh, Clive.

[Her hips ache but she doesn't want to let him go.]

[He rocks back and forth gently for a moment longer, sinking as he does so, until he’s eventually still and laid atop her comfortably. His face settles in the crook of her neck, and while his breath continues to heave, he’s calmed, somewhat.]

Jill…

[Nuzzling her face into his hair is not a part of the plan, but it happens before she can stop herself. Her fingers curl against the damp skin of his back.

Maybe they can just breathe and not talk.]

[He presses a kiss to get throat, then shifts like he might get off her. He doesn’t, not quite. Her fingers are gentle, her touch easy to sleep under, but—

He mutters:]

Catch your breath. I’m not spent yet.

You have more in you?

[She takes a deep breath, eager to obey. Eager to carry on.]

I think I will only be sore for days, not into next week.

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